


Sanctuary

by earthspirits



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate - Freeform, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Comforting, Consensual Sex, Dangerous men, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Foreshadowing, Garcia Flynn - Freeform, Garcia Flynn Timeless, Garcy true love, Love, Love Confessions, Prophetic Dreams, Prophetic Visions, Protectiveness, Redemption, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Soul Bond, Soul-Searching, Soulmates, Time Travel, Time travelers, Timeless, True Love, consensual romance, consensual sexual situations, garcy, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-04-30 07:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14492007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthspirits/pseuds/earthspirits
Summary: ‘‘Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, Did my heart fly at your service."- William Shakespeare (The Tempest)The moment Lucy Preston realizes the only safe harbor in her own personal storm is the enigmatic Garcia Flynn.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Contains Season 2 spoilers (my story is set immediately after Timeless S2 episode, "Mrs. Sherlock Holmes").
> 
> Rating / Warnings: Mature (18+) - Depicts scenes of consensual romance sexual activity / lovemaking. There's also some strong language.
> 
> The lovely quotations at the beginning of each chapter are by the Immortal Bard.

Frowning, she watched Wyatt Logan saunter away. There was a cocky smugness about the set of his shoulders that was rage inducing. With a muttered oath, she mentally kicked herself for revealing anything to him about her budding relationship with Garcia Flynn. It was certainly no damned business of Wyatt's - and she sure as hell didn't owe him any explanations. Did he really think she was the sort of woman to just patiently wait in the wings, while he waffled back and forth over Jessica? Or worse, welcome him back to her bed, with his wife just down the hall? While the soldier had agreed that she was right to put on the brakes, she had seen the disappointment in his eyes. Too damn bad. He couldn't have it both ways - and frankly - after suffering through his macho posturing and histrionics during this last mission, she'd had more than enough. Snorting in disgust, and still frowning, Lucy stomped toward Flynn's quarters.

His room was at the end of a gloomy hallway that reminded her of a scene from an old Boris Karloff movie. The overhead light flickered, badly in need of a new bulb. As she raised her fist to knock, the door suddenly opened, to reveal Flynn. The tall Croatian was clad in a black tee shirt and jeans, his dark hair rumpled from sleep. He stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then a slow smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he reached out and gently took her hand in his. "Lucy," he murmured. "Come in."

The darkened chamber was so far removed from any concept of "romantic" atmosphere as to be utterly ridiculous. It was cold and dismal, with peeling paint and rusty metal, the walls and bare floor stained, and the furnishings spartan. There was a narrow cot that looked much too short for Flynn, its thin woolen blankets carelessly thrown aside, and the pillow creased. A small couch that had seen better days occupied the opposite wall, along with a dented footlocker, and a low metal table. There wasn't much on the table - just a lamp and an older coffee and tea maker, with a selection of sugar packets and plastic stirrers, a box of tea, and two pottery mugs.

Flynn clicked on the lamp, and a pool of gold illuminated the darkness. "What's wrong, Lucy?" He indicated the couch, and with a sigh, she plopped down on its decidedly lumpy surface. 

"Nothing - Everything," she mumbled.

He raised one brow.

Lucy sighed. "I hardly know where to start."

"I find the beginning is generally best," Flynn commented blandly. "Tea?"

"Um - yes - thank you."

"I only have mint," he said, picking up the tea box. 

"That's fine." 

"Sugar?"

She nodded, and with another weary sigh, leaned back against the sofa. A moment later, and Flynn loomed over her. He handed her a steaming mug, and she cradled it, grateful for the warmth. The fresh scent of the mint was remarkably soothing.

Flynn sat beside her, and took a sip of his own tea. He tilted his head, gazing at her with sympathetic eyes. "So, tell me what's bothering you."

Lucy stared into her cup. "Wyatt." 

"I see." His mouth tightened. "And what did he say to you?"

Her eyes met his. "I think you can guess."

This time it was Flynn's turn to sigh. "He warned you away from me?"

"Yes - he was very definite about that." She blew on the hot tea to cool it, then cautiously raised the mug to her lips. "He also seems to be very - conflicted - regarding me and Jessica."

"Ah, the loving and loyal husband," he growled, contempt deepening his accent. "To use a cliché - He wants his cake, and to eat it too."

"I'm afraid so." Her smile was bitter. "You saw how he was today. Throughout this entire mission, he acted very possessive, lecturing me, and demanding answers, as if one night of passion granted him some sort of "ownership" rights. All this, despite the return of Jessica." She grimaced. "I got angry and told him off - but he managed to guilt trip me tonight."

"How so?" Flynn tightened his grip on his mug - for Lucy's sake, fighting to remain calm.

She took another sip. "Wyatt wanted to know if we'd been intimate last night, and I told him that nothing happened between us, that we just talked. He was positively jubilant." 

"I bet he was," he muttered, recalling the other man's threats from earlier in the day. He debated if he wanted to share that little tidbit with Lucy, but quickly discarded the idea. She'd already suffered enough, what with Logan's attitude, and the disastrous turn the mission had taken with regards to Alice Paul - she certainly didn't need to hear any complaints from him. Flynn smiled grimly, vowing that the next time Logan threatened him over Lucy, he'd not get off so lightly. "What happened next?"

"We talked - or mostly, he talked. He made it pretty obvious that if I was willing, he'd take up with me on the sly, Jessica be damned. God, I'm starting to feel sorry for her." She drained her mug, and set it down with a clatter on the metal footlocker. "But since he can't seem to make up his mind which of us to pick - I wonder, should I be flattered?" Lucy laughed, an edge of hysteria in her voice. "Perhaps he'd like to juggle us both at the same time? Keep me as back-up? Anyway, I digress. The bottom line is I refused to become "the other woman", and he seemed to accept that - at least for now. And of course, he thinks I should stay away from you."

"And yet - here you are." He put his cup aside, and turned towards her.

"Here I am." She moved closer, and laid her head on his shoulder, her long hair swinging forward, partly hiding her face. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

"You'll never be alone - not if I have anything to do with it." Gently, he put his arm around her, and drew her close.

"Flynn - " She coughed nervously, and raked her hair aside.

"Yes?" He gazed at her, his expression bemused, longing to kiss her, and yet not wanting to take advantage of the situation. "What is it, Lucy?" 

"About your wife and child. I need to know - would you go back to them if you could? Would you? If the timeline somehow alters, and they come back - like Jessica did." 

He stilled, his eyes as deep and unfathomable as the sea. "I love them, Lucy - whether they come back, or not. But no, I would never go back to them. It would be enough that they were alive again, and safe. I told you once that to ensure their safety, I would gladly walk away, and never see them again. I haven't changed my mind." Clearly stricken, he took a deep breath. "I used to be a good man - an honorable man. But after Rittenhouse murdered my family, I did terrible things. I lied and stole and killed, causing endless destruction across time - all in the name of vengeance, and for the sake of somehow bringing them back. And yet, so far I've failed." He smiled sadly. "I'm no saint - and I never will be. But believe me when I tell you that I will _never_ betray your trust. You're very precious to me, Lucy - and I'll always be here for you."

"Because of the journal?"

Flynn shook his head. "The journal may have started it all - but that's no longer the reason."

"What is then?" She craned her neck, so she could stare directly at him, her beautiful eyes sparkling like jet.

He laughed ruefully. "Don't you know?"

Almost reverently, Lucy trailed her fingers over Flynn's high cheekbones, and along the chiseled contour of his stubbled jaw. He shivered under her touch. " _Yes_ ," she whispered, and leaning forward, kissed him full on the mouth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _"For where thou art, there is the world itself, And where thou art not, desolation"_  
>  _\- William Shakespeare (Henry IV Part 2)_  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: Contains Season 2 spoilers (my story is set immediately after Timeless S2 episode, "Mrs. Sherlock Holmes").
> 
> Rating / Warnings: Mature (18+) - Depicts scenes of consensual romance sexual activity / lovemaking. There's also some strong language. 
> 
> The lovely quotations at the beginning of each chapter are by the Immortal Bard.

Their mouths clung together, and as the two of them fell backwards onto the lumpy sofa, Flynn's arms closed hungrily around Lucy, pulling her to him. His hands roamed across her back, caressing her through the smooth cotton of her shirt, and she shuddered with pleasure. She pressed insistently against his long muscular form, her breasts burning him where they touched, her hands trailing fire, their kisses deepening. He uttered a low moan, and felt Lucy's fingers fumbling at the zipper of his jeans. Reluctantly, he laid his large hand over hers, gently holding her fingers still.

Lucy flung her hair back, and glanced up, her expression puzzled. "What?"

For a moment, Flynn just stared at her, his gaze intense. He wanted her, ached for her - with all the fierceness of his damaged soul. Not for a night, but for a lifetime. After the murder of his family, he had never thought to love again, but from that first moment beneath the Hindenburg, Lucy had pierced through his every defense, and he'd been utterly lost. But she was at her most vulnerable now - and he refused to take advantage. Fighting the urge to simply tear her clothes off, and be done with it, he inhaled sharply, and gave her a faint smile. "Are you absolutely sure about this, Lucy?"

"Yes - more sure than I've ever been in my life." Straddled across him, pressing painfully against his very obvious erection, she had never looked more beautiful, her mouth pink and swollen from his kisses. Her shirt hung open, revealing a plain ecru brassiere, and the creamy swell of her breasts.

"Lucy..." he began.

"Ssh." She placed her other hand over his lips. "I want this, Flynn - I want _you."_

His mouth quirked, then flashed into a wide grin. "Very well - Your wish is my command."

With tantalizing slowness, Lucy pulled the zipper all the way down. Anxiously he helped, quickly peeling his jeans and shirt off, and kicking them to the floor. As he felt her fingers wrap around him, velvety against his hardness, he pulled her closer, nuzzling her neck, and groaning while she stroked him. Reaching around her back, he unhooked her bra, and drew it down. Her breasts spilled into his hands, the heat of his callused palms making her shiver. As he caressed her, she shifted position, twisting this way and that, as she struggled out of the rest of her clothing.

Flynn covered Lucy's face with frantic kisses, the feel of her bare flesh against his driving him wild. He was oblivious to the metal springs poking into his back, or his long legs hanging uncomfortably over the edge of the under-sized couch. His skilled hands drifted over her nude body, finding and stroking her most sensitive and secret places, until she was damp, and moaning his name. She pushed a strand of hair off her face, raising herself just above him. Their eyes met and held. Then carefully she dove down, a little at a time, finally impaling herself fully on his manhood. As he sheathed himself in her rose-petal heat, he groaned with pleasure. Grasping her hips, he began to move upwards, gently at first, so as not to hurt her, then with deeper, more forceful strokes, until the two of them were panting in unison, joined in that most ancient and compelling of rhythms. Exquisite sensations rippled through their merged bodies, soaring higher and higher. Lucy threw her head back and moaned, as she rode Flynn's powerful body to the final shuddering peak of ecstasy. He followed a moment later, his own climax roaring through him, shattering in its intensity.

As she collapsed atop him, slick with perspiration, he hugged her close, tenderly stroking her back. His dark eyes, usually so guarded, were gentle and loving, suffused with a quiet joy that would have startled the other members of the time team. " _Lucy_ ," he murmured. 

"That was incredible." She ran her fingers down the length of his neck, and along his broad shoulder, lingering curiously on an old corded scar. It was puckered and uneven, white against his skin - Possibly a knife wound?

One corner of Flynn's lips lifted in a pleased smile. He took her hand, and kissed it.

Suddenly aware of the coldness of the room, Lucy shivered. "Arrgh, it's like an icebox in here."

"You're covered in goosebumps," he observed, and gestured towards the bed. "It's only marginally better than this sad excuse for a couch, but it does offer blankets - of a sort. Shall we?"

She nodded, and then laughed delightedly, as Flynn playfully scooped her up in his arms, and with a grin, carried her over to the cot. He laid her down, and after climbing in beside her, pulled the covers up over them. "Better?"

"Yes, thank you." Despite the extremely cramped conditions (the cot was small, and Flynn was not - his feet stuck out over the end), she relaxed against him, craving his warmth, and feeling more content than she had in months. After a moment, she finally said, "Shouldn't we lock the door?"

"Good idea," he agreed, dutifully rolling out of bed, and padding across the room. There was a loud click as he snapped the rusty lock closed. "Although we probably should have thought of this earlier."

"True," Lucy smirked. "But we were somewhat - busy." Appreciatively, her eyes followed his progress back to bed. He was a beautiful man, despite the array of scars criss crossing his body. There was something about those scars - they hinted of turmoil and violence, of unspeakable risks that would defeat a lesser man than Garcia Flynn. Besides, those scars were so intrinsically a part of him - somehow a fitting testament to his monumental strength of will and powers of survival.

The cot sagged, as he laid down beside her. "Nice and private now," he said softly, leaning in for another kiss.

*****

The ugly surroundings of the bunker had long ceased to matter. Snuggled deep in her lover's protective embrace, Lucy felt comfortable and deliciously sated. She glanced at Flynn. In sleep, the sternness of his chiseled features was relaxed, his breathing deep and even. She felt a surge of love for this deeply flawed man, so utterly dangerous, and yet with her, so affectionate and tender. Suddenly drowsy, she closed her eyes, and laid her head against his bare chest, comforted by the steady beating of his heart.

*****

_Beside her, Flynn was dreaming. He and Lucy strolled hand in hand through an enormous field of wild mustard. The waist-high flowers were a mass of gold, and Lucy glowed in the brilliant sunlight. As she smiled and turned towards him, the sky darkened, and with the strange abruptness of dreams, the scene shifted. He was searching for Lucy in an enormous labyrinth of twisting corridors, frantically calling her name. Somewhere in the gloom ahead, he heard her screaming, and as he raced towards her, he found his path blocked. Cursing, he pushed against an invisible barrier, pounding on it with his fist. He felt as if he was struggling through quick-sand. As the darkness closed in, he caught a glimpse of Lucy, surrounded by a menacing horde of shadowy beings. "Lucy!" he cried, desperately throwing his entire weight against the barrier. "Lucy!"_

With a yell, he suddenly awoke, sweat pouring down his body. He turned, vastly relieved to find her safe and sound beside him. 

"Garcia - What's wrong?" she asked. "Are you okay?" It was the first time that she had ever used his given name.

Flynn pulled her towards him. "Nothing, just a nightmare. I'm sorry I woke you." His accented voice was low, raspy with concern. He forced a smile. "It's okay, Lucy - please go back to sleep."

But even after she had drifted off, wrapped safely in his arms, Flynn lay awake, staring into the darkness. It was just a nightmare, no doubt brought on by the stress of the last mission. But the possible danger it implied to Lucy troubled him. He hadn't been able to save his family - but he would die before he allowed any harm to come to Lucy. Nestled trustingly by his side, she slumbered peacefully, one slim hand curled over his heart - the heart that now belonged to her alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _"Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?"_  
>  -William Shakespeare (As You Like it)  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: Contains Season 2 spoilers (my story is set immediately after Timeless S2 episode, "Mrs. Sherlock Holmes").
> 
> Rating / Warnings: Mature (18+) - Depicts scenes of consensual romance sexual activity / lovemaking. There's also some strong language.
> 
> The lovely quotations at the beginning of each chapter are by the Immortal Bard.

Someone was pounding angrily on the metal door. A rhythmic thud of fists, over and over, that immediately woke Lucy from a sound sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, darting about the room in alarm. Beside her, Flynn stirred.

"What the hell's going on?" she hissed. "Are we under attack?"

Flynn scowled. "In a manner of speaking." 

The pounding grew more frenetic, and now Lucy could also discern yelling. "Is that - _Wyatt_?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

Lucy sat up, and the blankets slid down, exposing her nude breasts. She shivered as the frigid air hit her skin. "This is ridiculous."

"Open up, you bastard!" came Wyatt's belligerent voice from the hallway. "I know Lucy's in there with you!" The door rattled, and there was another violent thump.

"Glad we locked it last night," Flynn muttered. Still scowling, he slid out of bed, and cast around for his jeans.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" Reluctantly, Lucy tossed back the blankets. "Damn it - the floor's like ice." Grumpily, she stalked towards the sofa, and her clothing, which was piled in a wrinkled mess on the floor. "I'll kill him," she snarled beneath her breath.

Flynn smirked. "If you like, we can kill him together."

She shook her head, but her lips twitched. Hastily she dressed, all the while accompanied by the relentless cacophony coming from the other side of the door. Exasperated, she finally yelled at him. "Go away, Wyatt, just go the hell away."

"Lucy!" The pounding increased. "Damn it, Lucy, unlock the door!"

"I've had enough of this," Flynn finally growled, striding across the room with the ominous grace of a tiger. He unbolted the door, and threw it open. "What the fuck do you want, Logan?"

The other man frowned. "Get away from her, Flynn. She doesn't belong to you."

"Oh, and I belong to you, I suppose?" Lucy inquired in a voice that could have cut glass. "This isn't medieval times, Wyatt. Women don't "belong" to men anymore - At least not in the way you imply. And we don't need anyone's "permission" either. We make our own choices as to whom we want to be with. Surely not a difficult concept for you to understand?" 

Wyatt flinched, and Flynn, looming bare-chested beside Lucy, flashed a broad grin, his eyes glinting with sardonic amusement.

"You stayed the night and had sex with him, didn't you?" the soldier demanded jealously.

She didn't bother to deny it. "That's none of your business, Wyatt."

"How the hell can you stand to be with him? He's a damned killer."

"You're a killer too," Lucy pointed out. "That's what warriors sometimes have to do. And on that mission to 1918, I shot a man." Her eyes were bleak. "Just a boy really - an innocent young soldier. Not something I'm proud of. How is Flynn any different?"

Wyatt shook his head. "He's not like us, Lucy. Look what he's done in his attempt to change the timeline."

She sighed. "This is not up for discussion, Wyatt. Please, just leave me alone, and go back to Jessica."

Wyatt reached out, and grabbed her arm, yanking her towards him. "Forget this guy, Lucy."

"Damn it, Wyatt, let go," Lucy said. "You're hurting me."

" _Enough_ ," Flynn interjected. "You heard the lady - let her go."

"Or what?" the other man asked coldly.

"Believe me, Logan - You don't want to find out." Flynn smiled again, baring all his teeth. It was not a reassuring sight. "Now - take your hands off Lucy."

The two men glared at one another for a very long moment. Finally Wyatt dropped his eyes, and with a muttered apology to Lucy, relaxed his grip on her arm.

Lucy stepped back, her expression wary. She forced her voice to remain calm. "Wyatt, what we shared was sweet, but it's over. You have a wife. And I -" She hesitated briefly. "I choose to be with Flynn." Beside her, she could feel the big Croatian relax, just a fraction, although she could still sense his anger towards Wyatt, simmering beneath the surface.

"Jesus, Lucy, if it was anyone else but him..."

She started to reply, then paused, as she suddenly spotted Rufus and Jiya coming down the hall, trailed by Jessica Logan. "Oh great, now everybody's here."

"Hey, guys - what's going on?" Rufus asked. "We heard the yelling." His confused glance traveled from one angry face to another.

"I think it's pretty obvious," Jiya muttered sotto voce.

"Wyatt? What are you doing here?" Jessica asked. "I woke up, and you were gone." She glanced at Lucy. The historian was pink with embarrassment, her shirt buttoned crookedly, as if she had dressed in a hurry. Curiously, the blonde's eyes flickered to her husband and Flynn. The tension between the two men was off the Richter scale. "Oh, I see." 

"It's not what you think," Wyatt said helplessly.

Without a word, Jessica turned, and marched stiffly back down the hall.

"This is not good," Rufus commented. 

"Go after her, Wyatt," Lucy said. Wearily, she moved closer to Flynn, leaning into him, as she felt his arm snake around her waist. "Please, everybody - It's much too early for this sort of drama."

With one last despairing glance at Lucy, Wyatt sighed, and rushed after his wife.

Jiya raised a brow. "You two an item now?"

Lucy was silent for a moment, then gave a brief nod. Flynn just smirked.

"Thought so," Jiya said. "What took you so long?"

*****

"That's one hell of a way to start a morning," Lucy grumbled, taking a sip of peppermint tea. She sat on the couch, watching Flynn make the bed. "Well, the cat's out of the bag now."

"It certainly is," he agreed. "You okay with that? With us?"

She tilted her head, and smiled. "More than okay."

Flynn moved to the sofa, and sat beside her. "I'm glad you chose me, Lucy."

"My future self did too," she replied thoughtfully, thinking of the journal. "Perhaps what we're experiencing now is why I travel back in time to warn you? Surely, that can't be a coincidence." 

"I'm starting to wonder." Flynn's dark gaze was intense, as if he was trying to memorize her every feature. She had never had a man look at her quite like that - not even Wyatt. 

She set the pottery mug down. "But you also chose me, Garcia, when you decided to trust my future self and the journal, and steal the Mothership. And even as the two of us clashed across the timeline, you kept trying over and over again to convince me that you weren't my enemy, that we needed to work together to stop Rittenhouse." Her face softened. "Despite all our differences, there was always a strong attraction between us. We kept growing closer every time we met, and slowly, I learned I could trust you. That's no coincidence either." She raked her fingers through her hair. "But what the hell does it all mean?" Suddenly she was afraid, as if somehow Rittenhouse could take all this away. Take _him_ away.

"I don't know, Lucy," he replied, pulling her into an embrace. "Not yet, anyway. But together, we'll eventually figure it out."

Her eyes met his. "Together - I like the sound of that."

Flynn's lips quirked in that familiar little crooked smile, the one that had always secretly made Lucy's heart race. "So do I," he said softly, and bent his head to kiss her.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Timeless and its characters, belong to their respective creators / writers / network, etc. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc.


End file.
